After dinner, Martin was doing a little woodworking in the shop and slipped over to the lumber pile beside the dairy cow corral. As he was returning to the workshop, he heard a short, strange moo from Cherry, our milk cow.
"Hmmm…that's an odd sound from her. Do I check on Cherry or just keep working? I need to see what she wants," realizing he wouldn't have any peace if he didn't.
When Martin gets into the barn, Cherry's there "telling him something." He looks at her and realizes she's going to calve shortly. Calling James for help, the two of them prepare a nice spot with fresh straw for her.
Within 15 minutes, she had her calf to everyone's surprise. Obviously, there had been no time to waste.
Reflecting on the event, Martin knows Cherry called him with her strange moo. It was different from all the other bawling she makes for hay or just attention. Add to this, she was in the barn "communicating" with him that he needed to do something to prepare a place for her to calve. And she had her calf within minutes. Quite amazing!
"Dumb" beasts aren't so dumb?
Then, there was the next morning. It was back to normal cow behaviour for Cherry.
Martin was bringing her into the milking stall to see if her teats were being successfully sucked on by her new calf. As he was opening the gate to let her in, Harriett poked her head in the door to check on things.
Boom! Martin became invisible to hormonal Cherry as she saw a threat to her new baby. In her full-on charge at Harriett, Cherry, with head down, stepped on Martin's foot while at the same time flinging him like a match stick six-feet across the barn into the wall.
Martin saw what was coming and knew the only thing he could do to lessen the inevitable injuries was to relax. (I don't know how anyone could think that fast, in the face of the imminent danger from 1500 pounds of brute force coming straight at you, and RELAX on top of it.)
When Martin "came to," although he wasn't technically knocked out, just knocked through the air, he realized he was on his back looking up at the roof of the barn with his legs crumpled against the wall. His boot was loose enough to come out from under Cherry's foot and allow him some "air time."
Our fearless farmer was a little battered and bruised, but no broken bones, thankfully. His bad knee, which had been injured in school when some ruffian kicked it from the side, causing tendon damage, was re-injured. Before Martin could get up, he had to brace himself and inflict more pain by forcefully straightening his knee that was in muscle spasms.
Cherry had returned to her calf. Harriett had retreated from the barn. And Martin limped home for some much-needed solace.
Now, you would think that was enough excitement for our courageous farmer for a few days. But exciting times just keep happening.
The next day, Martin was checking on the beef cows in another corral and considered that Night, Cherry's heifer calf from three years ago, could be ready to calve, too. Looking around for her, he spotted a new calf in the middle of the corral with Night tenderly licking it.
Gathering this newborn in his arms, Martin limped into the barn with Mother Night close behind. Depositing his bundle in the fresh straw, he made sure Harriett couldn't get in anywhere. No repeats.
He grabbed a pail to drain a little milk from Night's udder to make it easier for her calf to suck. Seeing the milk pail on the move, the barn cats got excited expecting a treat of fresh milk and started to gather around. As Martin settled down to milk Night, one of the kittens got too close to her calf and she charged it, kicking the pail out of Martin's hand, destroying it and sending Martin slamming into another barn wall.
Cows and calves are all doing nicely; Harriett and the barn cats are fine; and Martin is mending.
Farming is NOT for wussies. Seems the issue may be one of reining cats and dogs or they reign all over him?
Marseilles' depictions of what happened to Martin.